


In Your Hands, I Feel Warm and Safe

by fishingwild



Category: DC's Legends of Tomorrow (TV)
Genre: Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Mick has to help him, Ray is injured, Some angst, atomwave
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-17
Updated: 2018-12-17
Packaged: 2019-09-20 22:14:01
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,815
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17030958
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fishingwild/pseuds/fishingwild
Summary: The mission went sideways, and it went sideways quickly.It was supposed to be simple. Take the jump ship to Alaska, shrink the Yeti, and take him back to the Waverider.- - -The wind comes out of nowhere, sending Ray flying into a tree, unable to hear the snap of a bone breaking through the blizzard.“Haircut!” Mick yells, his voice being carried away with the wind.





	In Your Hands, I Feel Warm and Safe

**Author's Note:**

> Here's some Atomwave for the DCTV Secret Santa!!!
> 
> Happy Holidays!!

The mission went sideways, and it went sideways quickly.

It was supposed to be simple. Take the jump ship to Alaska, shrink the Yeti, and take him back to the Waverider.

Mick and Ray had landed the jump ship in the middle of the forest, close to where the fugitive was wreaking havoc.  They exited and went in search of the creature, which wasn’t hard to do since it was a twenty-foot-tall behemoth ripping up every tree in sight.

“Shrink it,” Mick grunts, firing up his heat gun.

“I need to configure the shrink ray first, I can’t just point and shoot,” Ray explains as he fastens the device on his arm and hits a few buttons. The other man grunts in frustration, grabs Ray’s arm and points it towards the Yeti, and fires it.

“Mick!”

“Look.” He motions to where the Yeti used to stand; now all that was visible were torn up trees. Ray grumbles about “proper protocol when using advanced technology” as Mick marches over to where the Yeti had been. They scoop him up and begin to walk back to the jump ship.

And then the mission goes sideways. Along with Ray.

The wind comes out of nowhere, sending Ray flying into a tree, unable to hear the snap of a bone breaking through the blizzard.

“Haircut!” Mick yells, his voice being carried away with the wind. The snow is so thick he can barely see his hand in front of his face. He takes a few steps to his right, where he believes Ray got blown. Luckily, the scientist comes into view and Mick bends down. “Haircut,” he shouts, hoping to get a reaction from the other man. Mick barely hears the groan, before doing a quick check of the other legend. His leg is bent in the wrong away and there’s a bit of blood in the snow around his head. With more effort than needed due to the snow, the pyromaniac hoists Ray up, supporting him completely.

Mick slowly marches them to where he believes the jump ship is, but after quite some time, comes upon a small cabin. He leans Ray against the building, who is only slightly coherent.

“This isn’t the ship.”

“Nope,” Mick grumbles, trying to open the front door. When it doesn’t budge, he turns sideways and thrusts his body towards the door. Wood breaks and splinters and the door swings inwards on its hinges.

“Mick! We can’t break in! This is a crime!”

“Shut up, Haircut. We need somewhere to wait out this storm,” Mick grumbles and leads Ray through the door. The place is quaint, but has a couch and a fireplace, so Mick gets Ray laid down on the couch before going back to the door and shoving it in place. He makes his way over to the fireplace, and luck is on their side. There is dry wood stacked there, just waiting to be lit. He lifts his gun, ignoring the “be careful” Ray suggests before firing up his gun and lighting the wood on fire. Ray shifts on the couch, being mindful of his broken leg, and slowly moves into a half-slouch, half-sitting position on the couch.

“Mick, I need your help with my leg,” Ray huffs out, his breath ragged.

“You’re the doctor. How am I supposed to help?”

“Well, I need you to take off my pants, so I can see how bad it is.” Mick stands frozen in his spot, staring at the other legend.

“Take off your pants?”

“Yes.” Ray says it simply. Like its no big deal that he’s about to undress his incredibly dashing friend. He takes the few steps over to the couch, dropping his gun on the small coffee table before kneeling next to the couch.

“Be gentle, Mick. My leg really hurts. It may be broken.”

“Wouldn’t cutting the pants off be easier?”

“I don’t have a knife-” Before he can finish the statement, Mick has pulled one out of his pants. “Of course, you carry one on you.” Mick grunts, shifting closer and carefully cuts the left pant leg off Ray, revealing another layer of tight fabric.

“What the hell are those, boy scout?”

“Thermal underwear.” Mick gives him a look. “When I heard we were coming to Alaska I asked Gideon to fabricate me some. I hate the cold.”

“Me too,” the other man says before cutting away the rest of the fabric on Ray’s leg. “Shit,” Mick mumbles upon seeing the large purple swelling around his kneecap.

“You owe a dollar in the swear jar,” Ray mumbles, wincing at the sight of his leg.

“No one ever puts any money in that jar.”

“I do.” Mick rolls his eyes, looking back up at his friend’s face, which is twisted in pain.

“What’s wrong?” He asks worried, quickly standing up as if he can physically fight what’s bothering the other man.

“My leg is getting worse, I need to reduce the swelling. Can you grab some snow from outside?” Mick is out the door and grabbing as much snow as he can right as Ray finishes his question. He’s back at his side a moment later, gently putting the snow on Ray’s leg.

“Holy crap! That’s cold!”

“You asked for snow!”

“I know… best case scenario, it’s just a fracture.”

“Worst case?”

“It’s broken. We should probably make a splint, keep it from getting worse.”

“Just tell me what to do.” Ray directs him through finding two solid, straight pieces of wood. Of course, Mick finds a wooden chair sitting at a small table and rips off two of the legs. Ray, being the good boy scout as always, has string on him and talks Mick through the splint. Soon enough his leg is propped up on the coffee table on top of a few pillows with ice on his kneecap.

“The back of your head is bleeding,” Mick says as he sits on the couch, only remembering the wound of Ray’s head when he sees the blood.

“Really? I don’t feel any pain on my head. My leg must be hurting enough to numb the pain in my head.”

“How do I fix this?”

“Well some antibacterial spray would be best, but if you can find some rubbing alcohol and some wipes that should be enough.” Mick sets off into the bathroom, finding some bandages and wipes. He brings them back in, setting them on the coffee table.

“No alcohol?” Ray asks, and on cue Mick pulls a flask out of his jacket pocket.

“I’ve got some whiskey.”

“You’re going to waste some of your alcohol on my wound?”

“It’s not a waste if its going to help,” he mumbles, taking a quick swig. Ray motions to the flask and takes a swig as well, coughing a little. “I should have offered you some of this sooner,” he chuckles, before Ray begins instructing him on how to clean the wound.

Finally, Ray is all bandaged up and Mick settles on the couch next to him, the two passing the flask between themselves.

“How long should that thing stay small?”

“Well, the saber tooth tiger stayed that way for about half a day, so we’re good for a while.” Mick nods, taking another swig from the flask.

“There’s only a mouthful left,” he grunts, gently pushing the container into Ray’s chest.

“First you use some of your precious alcohol to clean my wound, and now you’re letting me have the last of it? Did you hit your head too?”

“Shut up, haircut. Don’t make me regret that.” Ray laughs, finishing off the alcohol and slightly shifting on the couch.

“You alright?”

“Just a bit nippy. I think it’s from the snow on my leg,” Ray mumbles, shifting closer to Mick.

“Uh, you want my jacket? Or I could make the fire bigger,” Mick quickly suggests, panicking as Ray shuffles into his personal place, snuggling into his side.

“This is good,” the scientist says into Mick’s chest, listening to his steady but slightly elevated heart rate. The thief stares at the man cuddling into him, not having had such intimate physical contact in months. He slowly wraps his arm around Ray, but only because it’s more comfortable for him. It’s not to help Ray feel warmer or safer. Not at all.

“I’m sorry you had to patch me up.”

“Wasn’t a big deal. Sara would kill me if I let you die.”

“As tough and strong as you are,” Ray chuckles while squeezing Mick’s arm, “there’s no way you could take Sara.” Mick lets out a laugh, squeezing Ray’s side gently.

“You’re lucky I like you so much, boy scout. I’d burn anyone who dare insult me like that.”

“You like me?” Ray asks quietly, peering up at the other legend.

“Well, uh, as a friend. We work together.”

“Sure, Mick. I may be injured, and have a possible concussion, but I do have PhDs. You were fazed when I asked you to take off your pants, you froze when I cuddled into you, and your heart rate has been elevated since the cuddling began. So, either you’re experiencing hypothermia, which is highly unlikely since we were barely in the snow and have been in this warm cabin for a few hours now, or you’re attracted to me,” Ray gently explains.

“I think you hit your head a bit harder than you thought, Haircut,” Mick deflects and tries to shift away from Ray, who stops him by placing a firm hand on his chest.

“It’s okay, Mick. I don’t mind. I, uh,” Ray takes a deep breath, gathering his thoughts before meeting Mick’s gaze again. “I don’t believe that your feelings are as one sided as you believe.” Before he can give the thief a chance to respond, Ray leans up and gently presses his lips to Mick’s.

The kiss begins as tentative, both unsure if the other truly wants this. Ray presses a little harder, his hand gripping the other man’s shirt. Mick kisses him back with fervor, finally indulging in his desires.

The kisses become more feverish, the two barely breaking apart for breath. Mick shifts, pressing into Ray, but a sharp gasp escapes from his lips.

“Shit! I’m sorry, Ray,” Mick quickly apologizes as Ray gently rubs his leg.

“It’s okay, just shifted my leg too much. But you now owe five dollars in the swear jar.” Mick rolls his eyes, pressing a quick kiss to Ray’s lips.

“I’ll put as much money in that stupid jar if it’ll keep you happy,” he mumbles into the scientist’s lips, making him smile before they share another sweet kiss, and then a few more.

Once they return to the Waverider, the Yeti taken care of and Ray all patched up by Gideon, the kisses don’t stop. And soon turn to visits to the other’s rooms late at night.


End file.
